


Puzzle Pieces

by Elucubrations



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but there is not actual rape, ngl it gets kinda rapey, not about that, oh no, soooo much angst omg, these two idiots being stupid wankers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elucubrations/pseuds/Elucubrations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nezumi and Shion are so incompetent that it takes Shion getting kidnapped and assaulted before they actually make a move. Request from IzXaRose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Pieces

Sunset was approaching when Inukashi told Shion he could dry of the last of the dogs and go home.

“You've done good work today,” they said, scratching nonchalantly at their neck. “I'll give you some dried meat to take back as a bonus.”

Shion shook his head violently in abject horror. “No, no, that isn't necessary at all!” he cried. “You pay me enough as it is!”

Inukashi fixed him with a glare, perfectly used to this behaviour. “ _As it is_ , you normally space out for a good third of the day. Today you didn't. Take this as a reward for that.”

Suitably abashed, Shion nodded meekly. Nezumi would be pleased, at least. He pocketed the payment and set off with his usual dog escort, waving happily back at Inukashi, who just rolled their eyes and sloped back inside, a fond smile playing at their lips.  
  
  


Two hours later, Inukashi was hammering on Nezumi's door as if to break it down.

“Nezumi!” they yelled. “Nezumi, open this door!”

The door was wrenched wide and Inukashi almost fell head-first into the room. Nezumi was standing half-naked, hair dripping and arms crossed, looking extremely displeased.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he spat, glaring poisonously at Inukashi. “You come here with your wet dog smell and ruin my evening, _again_. What is it now? Have you come to tell me Shion isn't back yet because he got so covered in dog hair that he suffocated?”

“I just found my dog,” Inukashi panted. “He's dead.”

Nezumi blinked patiently. “Right. Remind me again, who gives a fuck?”

Inukashi growled, hands curling into fists. “He was the one I sent to escort Shion home, you monumental prick!”

There was a split second of limbo before Nezumi's mask of a face shattered completely. Inukashi gaped at the ocean of shock, horror and fear that crashed over his features and, for the first time since they had met, saw Nezumi as completely vulnerable, completely human. Nezumi was a demon no longer; and it was all down to Shion. It never failed to astound Inukashi how utterly he had woven himself into all of their beings.

Inukashi could see a bead of cold sweat forming on Nezumi's temple. His hands were white, gripping the ancient door in a vice grip that was so tight it would surely leave indentations in the wood.

“Where?” Nezumi's voice was hoarse, urgent, with an underlying tone of panic hat set Inukashi's heart thumping at a dangerous pace.

“Only a  kilometre from the hotel,” Inukashi said hurriedly. “Nezumi, it must have been –”

“The Dispatchers,” Nezumi snarled through clenched teeth. He pulled on his coat and boots and they rushed out into the dusk, three of Inukashi's best tracker dogs yapping at their heels.  
  
  


Shion had only been walking for a quarter of an hour when the dog suddenly stopped and began to growl viciously, hackles rising as savage snarls ripped from its throat.

A man in a torn grey shirt stepped out of the alleyway. Shion  recognised him immediately. He was one of the Dispatchers, Nezumi had told him, the people who cleaned corpses off the street for a living. Shion had had a nightmare in which he'd discovered that they actually ate the bodies as well, but it had been just too ridiculous to tell Nezumi about. Still, he had avoided them to the best of his ability since then – especially this one, who had taken an  unsavoury interest in him from the start.

He was sauntering towards them now, completely relaxed and chuckling at the furious dog, who looked ready to attack. Shion rested a hand on its head, but it refused either to stop growling or relax, probably for the best, but Shion had always been decidedly anti-violence. The Dispatcher came to a stop a few feet in front of them, arms lazily folded over his chest.

Well, look who it is,” he drawled, voice rough with a life of cigarette smoke and scavenging. “The pretty boy with the pretty hair and the not-so-pretty dog. Fancy meeting you here.”

Shion smiled nervously through the shivers shooting down his spine and shuffled from foot to foot. “Yes, what a coincidence,” he chirped frantically. “Um, I'm really sorry, but I'm kind of in a hurry, my friend's waiting for me and –”

The man raised an eyebrow at that. “What, your boyfriend with the knife?”

Shion grasped at the lifeline with both hands, although he couldn't stop a blush rising to his cheeks. “Uh, yes, that's him,” he lied. “He's in a really bad mood today, and if I'm late he'll be even angrier.”

“Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll protect you from him,” the Dispatcher crooned, a sick smile twisting his features.

Shion froze as his idea backfired. “Oh no, he'd be angry at you, I'm afraid, for – hang on, 'we'?”

The nasty smile widened. Shion heard a sound behind him and whirled around. Another man was there, presumably a Dispatcher he didn't recognise, leaning against the wall and grinning at him. There were two more on either side, steadily drawing nearer.

The dog snarled and leapt at the first Dispatcher. A gunshot exploded in Shion's ears, and suddenly his protection was on the floor, still and bleeding. Letting out a cry, Shion tried to run but was seized violently from behind, a filthy hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his panicked screams.

The man in the grey shirt stepped closer, reached out a hand and stroked Shion's hair with his greasy fingers in what was like a nauseating mockery of Nezumi's caresses. Shion struggled violently, trying to escape, but to no avail. His was a prison of hard, unmovable muscle.

“We're going to give you an unforgettable time,” the man said, smiling evilly. Shion bit down hard on his captor's hand and tasted the rusty tang of blood before he was punched so hard in the face that he nearly blacked out.

“You little cunt,” the man behind him gasped, spinning him around and squeezing his uninjured hand around Shion's throat until he saw stars. “I'll kill you for that,” he hissed.

“Easy, Kazuo, easy. I'd prefer him alive,” said the man in the grey shirt. “For now,” he added sinisterly.

With a sudden, horrific jolt, Shion realised what was about to happen to him. He screamed loudly and kicked out, only to be further restrained and beaten.

“Nezumi!” he tried to shout hopelessly, tears streaming down his face. “ _Nezumi_!”

Nezumi wasn't there to save him this time, Shion knew that. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to sob.

Sensing his sudden loss of will, the Dispatchers dragged him down the street into an abandoned house. There, they tightly bound his hands while the man in the grey shirt held a knife to his throat.

“Now listen up, my pretty, and listen good. Noise is fine. You can scream all you like, no one's coming to save you. But no fighting. One bite, one kick, and you're dead. And I'll make sure to find that actor boyfriend of yours and slit his throat as well,” he swore with a steely, sadistic glint in his eye.

Shion could only sob pathetically, and hated himself for it.

“Well?” the man prompted, poking Shion's Adam's apple with the point of his knife. “Are we agreed or not?”

Shion forced himself to nod – even as he gagged – if only for Nezumi's sake. He couldn't risk these people going after Nezumi, even knowing what they would do to him now.

_It's all for Nezumi_ , he told himself, but it didn't make him feel any better.

Satisfied, the man lowered his knife. “Good,” he said, and forced Shion's head up with a rough tug on his hair. Then he kissed him, full on the mouth, and Shion nearly threw up. He forced himself to stay perfectly still as the man pushed his foul-tasting tongue into Shion's mouth, forced himself to repress the urge to bite the slimy thing off.

He could feel the man's hands pawing at him – his hair, his chest, his crotch – and let out a broken whimper. The sound only seemed to spur the man on, make him claw at his clothes until his shirt had been torn away and his trousers were halfway down his legs. Feeling the hands tugging at his underwear, Shion clamped his eyes shut against the shame and bit down on his lip until he could taste blood. He knew what was coming next.

What came next was something he never could have predicted.

All of a sudden, the door swung open loudly, crashing against the wall with a sound that turned all heads in the room, including, miraculously, the man in the grey shirt. Shion opened his eyes and gaped openly at the figure in the doorway.

_Nezumi!_ was his first thought before realising that no, the hair was too short, the eyes too flat, the posture too lazy.

“Well now,” said the man who was not Nezumi, “ _this_ is an interesting situation.”

“Piss off!” one of the Dispatchers shouted furiously. “This ain't none of your business, so you'd better bugger off if you want to keep those eyes of yours!”

The stranger seemed unfazed. “Well now. That's just unfriendly.” His eyes glinted maliciously in the setting sunlight. He stepped inside.

A Dispatcher ran at him with an iron rod raised high above his head, but the stranger just ducked the blow and tripped him, sending him hurtling to the floor with an enormous crash. Grabbing the dropped rod, he swung it into the temple of the nearest attacker, kicking another when they made a grab for his throat. The man with the grey shirt was fumbling with his pistol, shakily aiming it for the stranger's head. Shion shouted a warning and knocked it out of his hand with a remarkably lucky kick.

Before the Dispatcher could land a punch in his stomach, the iron rod smashed into his head and he crumpled bonelessly to the floor.

Shion lay on the floor, filthy and panting and almost completely naked, and gazed up at his rescuer.

“Well now,” the man said with a half-smile, “You're in quite a state, aren't you, boy?”

Shion, so completely entranced with the man so like Nezumi before him that he could barely speak, began to shiver violently.

“Hey now, hey now,” the stranger crooned, sitting Shion up and untying his hands. “You're all okay now.” The words were so warm that Shion burst into tears. Lean, muscled arms gathered him in a comforting embrace. “Don't you cry anymore now, boy, you're safe.”

Shion clung to this man who was not Nezumi and bawled his eyes out. He felt hands pulling up his trousers before he was picked up and carried out into the night.  
  
  


Nezumi and Inukashi were sprinting desperately through the streets, searching for Shion. They didn't dare call his name for fear of attracting unwanted attention, but Inukashi had put their dogs on Shion's scent and they had set off from the scene of the attack with their noses to the ground and their tails up, completely confident of the trail they were following.

The dogs led them to an abandoned hovel whose door had been left wide open. They stood growling at the threshold, so Nezumi drew his knife before peeking cautiously into the room.

“What in the hell...?” he uttered, stepping fully into the doorway. Inukashi peeked in over his shoulder.

Four Dispatchers were lying haphazardly on the floor, all unconscious and bruised. Inukashi marched inside to take a better look and, following their example, their dogs followed, making a beeline for something lying in a far corner. One of the dogs barked quietly, and Inukashi turned to take a look at what they had found. Their eyes widened.

“Nezumi?” they said, trying desperately to keep the tremor out of their voice as they picked up their dog's discovery. “Isn't this a piece of Shion's shirt?”

Nezumi snatched the piece of fabric from Inukashi's limp grasp and veritably howled in fear and fury.  
  
  


The stranger's name was Shin. He was a local market seller, and made baskets for a living.

“Why did you help me?” Shion asked of him, wrapped tightly in a blanket and sipping the mug of hot water he'd been given. He was feeling much calmer now than he had an hour ago, the panic of being assaulted having faded almost completely. Shin had that kind of aura: relaxing, comforting, friendly and open.

Shin smiled at him in a friendly way. “Why wouldn't I have helped you? I'm human too, I wasn't about to let those pigs rape you and leave you to die.”

Shion frowned. “But...people here...they don't really do that kind of thing usually, do they?”

Shin looked confused. “Who told you that? Of course there are those who couldn't give two shits, but I'd bet good money that the majority of people living in the West Block are just as human as you or I.”

It was strange to hear such optimism, when up to this point Shion had only ever heard derisive words and dubious morals in the West Block. Nezumi always said that no one here did anything that wouldn't benefit themselves, and it was refreshing to hear hopeful words instead,  _human_ words. Maybe the world wasn't such a dark place after all. Not if people like Shin existed.

Shion glanced reverently up at his rescuer, drinking in the line of his jaw, the curve of his throat, the way his dark hair fell over his brow. Shin caught him staring and Shion averted his eyes, blushing.

“Hey there,” Shin said, laughter in his voice, “that's pretty cute.”

Shion looked up with a start, blush deepening. “W-what?” he stammered.

Shin's smile widened. “That blush of yours. You feeling flustered there?”

Shion shook his head too quickly, took a too large gulp of his water and choked too loudly for too long. “No, no,” he denied when the choking had died lamely. “I just...the water's pretty warm,” he finished limply.

Shin's smirk looked so much like Nezumi's. “Right,” the man said, laughing. “It's okay though, you know that, right?”

Shion glanced at him curiously. “What is?”

Shin looked him deeply in the eyes and Shion couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable at the frankly  _wrong_ shade of silver that was staring at him. “Wanting me,” Shin stated, his eyes flashing with something Shion couldn't quite decipher.

Shion's eyes went wide and he felt his face heat to a humiliating degree. “ _What_ ?!”

Shin smiled slyly. “You want to get the feeling of those pigs' hands off you, get their taste out of your mouth. I can do that.”

The words twisted something deep in the pit of Shion's stomach. “You can?” he whispered, his voice cracking a little.

Shin shifted closer, stroked Shion's cheek gently with the back of his fingers in just the way Nezumi always did. “I can,” he vowed. “Come on, Shion, I know you want to. I know you do.”

He wasn't Nezumi, Shion thought as he leaned forward, but he was the closest he'd ever get.

He sank into his first proper kiss.  
  
  


The dogs had followed Shion's scent to a small, reasonably well-kept house near the marketplace. Inukashi pressed their ear to the door, listening for sounds coming from inside, but heard little.

“Step back,” Nezumi hissed. “I'm going to kick it down.”

Inukashi nodded sharply and did as he said.

With a couple of short, powerful kicks, Nezumi broke the lock and sent the door careering into the wall with an almighty bang. The dogs scrabbled past him through the doorway, whimpering with anticipation as they neared their goal. They disappeared into another room, and there was a split second of silence before a cacophony of barking broke out.

Their hearts in their mouths, Nezumi and Inukashi raced into the room. They froze at the scene in front of them, eyes wide with horror. Shion was pinned to the floor under a strange man, his shirt gone and his trousers undone, the stranger's hand inside his underwear. Shion's attacker had frozen at the sudden appearance of three snarling dogs and was now staring, bewildered, at the two aghast humans staring down at him.

Shion tried in vain to sit up. “Nezumi!” he cried joyfully.

This seemed to snap Nezumi out of his horrified daze, and he leapt, snarling, at the attacker. They fell to the floor in a tangle of flailing limbs, punches and grunts echoing around the small room. Inukashi fell to their knees beside Shion, gripping his arms to help him sit up, and was astounded when they were pushed away.

“Nezumi!” Shion called desperately, struggling upright. “Nezumi, stop!”

He made to intervene and Inukashi held him back. “It's okay,” they told Shion, “Nezumi can hold his own, don't worry, he has his knife.”

“He has a  _knife_ ?!” Shion yelped, looking perplexingly distraught. He wrenched his arm out of Inukashi's grip and sprinted towards the fight, seizing Nezumi under the arms and dragging him bodily away. “Stop, Nezumi, stop it!”

Nezumi fought him, struggling to escape his grip and kill the stranger, who was lying on the floor, dazed and bleeding. Why was Shion so adamant to spare him, Inukashi wondered, flummoxed. Surely his kindness couldn't extend this far.

“No!” Nezumi was shouting. “Let  _go_ , Shion, he needs to die, this kind of person –!”

But the man had already high-tailed it out of the door, limping very badly but still making good speed.

“Nezumi, stop it!” Shion screamed back. “What the hell are you doing?”

This made Nezumi do a double-take. “What the hell am I doing?” he asked in disbelief. “Oh, that's very charming. I save your virgin ass from being raped and this is what I get.”

Now it was Shion's turn to be taken aback. “Raped?” he repeated, stunned. “Who said anything about rape?  _He_ saved me from rape!”

Nezumi's jaw dropped, along with Inukashi's.

“ _What_ ?” Nezumi gasped incredulously. “Are you telling me you actually...”

Inukashi felt the storm rising and, deciding that the coast was clear of immediate danger, tactfully backed out of the room. Curious as they were, it didn't seem quite right to eavesdrop on this particular exchange.  
  
  


Nezumi could barely believe his own ears. Shion had gone to bed with an utter stranger, right after having been sexually assaulted. He shook his head slowly. “Who are you?” he croaked in utter disbelief.

“Who am I?” Shion cried, his face an angry, mortified red. “How can you ask me something like that, Nezumi? How dare you?”

“The Shion I know would never have slept with a complete stranger, under any circumstances,” Nezumi declared, still reeling from the shock of it all.

“I didn't sleep with him,” came the defiant retort.

“But you were going to.” Nezumi could hardly believe his own words. “You were going to fuck a  _complete stranger_ instead of coming back to me and telling me you were safe. I was going out of my  _mind_ , and I come in here, and you're... _whoring yourself out_ to some random guy!”

Shion clenched his fists. “He wasn't some random guy! He was my friend!”

“Your  _friend_ ?! You'd barely known him for two hours and he'd already manipulated his way into your pants!” Nezumi wanted to be sick. “He wasn't your friend, Shion.”

“It wasn't manipulation!” Shion yelled back, though even as the words left his mouth, he was doubting them. “I  _wanted_ to, believe it or not. I wanted to, and you beat him half to death!”

_Did I want it?_ he asked himself.  _Did I really?_

The truth was clear. Shin had reminded him of Nezumi. Nezumi had been the only one on his mind from start to finish, from their first kiss to the moment the real Nezumi had burst through the door. He hadn't wanted it, not really. What he had – and still – wanted was Nezumi.

But right now, he would rather die than tell Nezumi that.

“You  _wanted to_ ?!” Nezumi was screaming back in a savage mockery. “You really,  _really_ _wanted to_ ?! God, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Shion scoffed righteously. “I'm just standing up to you for once in my life rather than letting you walk all over me, like you always do!”

Nezumi's face hardened until it was almost painful to look at. “I never thought you'd be such a slut,” he spat.

Shion's mouth fell open. “A slut?! Nezumi, it was one time! Nothing even happened! And even if it had, I can have sex with whoever I like. You're the one who's always making fun of me for being a virgin!”

“I never meant for you to go and get your brains fucked out by some shady bloke you'd just met!

“Then who  _did_ you mean for me to get my brains “ _fucked out_ ” by?” Shion retorted acidly, spitting out the swearword like it was poison. “ _You_ ?! As if. I'd rather go back to the Dispatchers!” The words felt repellent on their way out, but it was nothing compared to how they felt when they hit home.

Nezumi inhaled sharply, like he'd been slapped in the face. Shion saw a split second of appalled hurt before Nezumi's fist collided violently with his face. He fell to the floor, blood filling his mouth and dripping out of his nose. The world was ringing like a bell.

“Fuck,” he heard Nezumi spit. “ _Fuck_ you.” Nezumi raised his head, fury now where the pain had been. Shion felt a huge stab of regret and shame. “Go on then! Piss off!” Nezumi cried. “Go and get raped all you like, if I'm so  _fucking_ repulsive!” With that, Nezumi turned on his heel and stalked away.

Shion lay on the floor, completely numb. He couldn't believe what he'd said, couldn't believe he'd done any of it.

_Why didn't I just go back to Nezumi the first chance I could? What have I_ done _?_

He got up slowly and stumbled back to Inukashi's hotel. They found him listlessly rubbing an old dog's ears, tears slowly drying on his face. Sighing, they sat down next to him.

“You really know how to pick 'em, don't you?”

Shion looked up. “Huh?” he asked flatly.

“Well Nezumi's bad enough by himself, not even mentioning _that_ guy!”

“Inukashi, what are you talking about?”

Inukashi rolled their eyes. “It's obvious, you idiot. You're in love, but too stupid to realise and too frightened to act.”

Shion pulled his knees up to his chest. “I simply can't believe I ruined everything just like that. What was I thinking?” He looked shell-shocked.

Inukashi gazed at him pensively. “Shion, you probably know this already, but that guy was bad news. Every so often you meet one of his type. They talk to you for three minutes and suddenly they're your best friend who you'd trust with anything and do anything for. Only when they leave, you realise you knew nothing about them and they weren't actually so great. And then you start wondering, w _hy did I give them my money? Why the hell would I give them my food?_ When you meet those people, there's nothing to be done about it. It isn't your fault. He was a tricky bastard.”

“Sociopath,” Shion murmured.

Inukashi glanced at him warily. “...bless you.”

“No. That's what he was. I see it now. Why couldn't I see it before?”

Inukashi shrugged. “That's how it is. Believe it or not, I once lent someone like him three quarters of my savings. Three quarters! It was like I'd temporarily lost my mind!”

Shion agreed wholeheartedly.

“Anyway, my point is, stop blaming yourself. And don't worry about Nezumi. He'll come round.”

“But what if he doesn't?”

“Shion, you're so blind.” Inukashi sighed. “You're wasted on an asshole like him. But he will come round. You'll see.”

Shion gazed at them curiously. “Inukashi, how old are you?”

“The hell do you want to know that for?” Inukashi asked, astounded.

“You're really wise.”

They snorted. “Nah. I just know the two of you better than I have any wish to.”

Shion smiled waterily. “Thank you, Inukashi.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, please don't cry.”

He did anyway.  
  
  


Nezumi stalked through the moonlit streets and hated how abnormal he felt. Unbalanced, disturbed, _wrong_. His heart was pounding in his chest and he still felt light-headed and panicky, though the danger had long since passed.

_Stupid_ , he berated himself,  _stupid stupid stupid_ .

He shouldn't have blown up at Shion like that. Being manipulated wasn't his fault, and even if he hadn't been coerced, it was his own choice. His own business. Nezumi had no right to a say in Shion's business.

And yet...

_Why do I feel like this?_ Hot, feverish, dizzy, desperate. He felt like his brain was being slow-cooked inside his skull, like he was gradually becoming more and more unhinged. The thought that kept circling his mind like a vulture swooping in on carrion was  _Shion kissed him, not you. Shion touched him, not you. Shion let himself be touched by him, not you. Not you, not you, not you, not you, not you._

By all logic, Nezumi shouldn't have given two shits about who touched Shion, but despite everything, he did. Hot anger and envy were coiled around his belly, squeezing until he felt ready to be sick.

_Not you not you not you not you not you not you not –_

“Why hello there, sweetie. You look like you need some stress relief.” The voice was syrupy, decadent.

Nezumi wheeled around in surprise. A woman in skimpy clothing and heavy makeup was beckoning to him.

“Come on,” she said. “I can take your mind off things.”

Nezumi hesitated for a long second before he nodded. “Alright.”

She smiled. “Payment first. Two silver coins.”

He gave her the money.

Another bright red smile. “Let's get started.” She took his hand and led him into a building nearby.  
  
  


“Do you think he'll ever forgive me?” Shion asked Inukashi quietly.

“I don't think he ever really blamed you,” Inukashi replied. “He just looked shocked and angry to me.”

“But why would he be so angry?”

Inukashi scoffed. “Because he's a selfish, cowardly prick who thinks he's entitled to things without ever bothering to actually claim them. Even stupider and more frightened than you. Again, you're wasted on him.”

“But I'm not.”

“Shion, you're worth ten of Nezumi. A hundred. A  _thousand_ .” They would have gone on, but they couldn't remember what came next and they hated looking stupid in front of Shion.

“But I can't be wasted on him if I don't have him anymore.”

Inukashi rolled their eyes. “Haven't you been listening to a word I've been saying? You _do_ have him. You idiot. You're both just too thick to realise.”  
  
  


The prostitute's mouth on his made Nezumi feel sick. The whole time, all he could think of was Shion. Not of kissing him, but of someone else kissing him, someone else's hands all over him. He couldn't stand it.

The woman had barely got his shirt off before Nezumi pushed her gently away. “Forget it,” he said, “I can't.”

She didn't look too concerned. “No refunds.”

“It doesn't matter.”

Nezumi almost ran out of the building.  
  
  


He'd been home for half an hour by the time Shion walked through the door. He heard the boy's footsteps stop in their tracks when he spotted him.

“...there's stew in the pot,” he muttered, not daring to turn around.

“Thanks,” came the quiet reply.

Nezumi picked up a book and desperately tried to absorb the words. They ran through his fingers like water. He heard Shion sit down on the sofa, and only then drew up the courage to turn around.

Shion was in a borrowed shirt, and his face was bruised and bloody where the Dispatchers had hit him. His nose wasn't broken from Nezumi's punch, thank God, but his eyes were circled with purple bruising. Nezumi cringed in shame.

Shion's voice in the silence startled him. “I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it.”

Nezumi pursed his lips, remembering. “Yeah. Neither did I.”

Shion nodded, and looked up. His gentle expression turned to stone right before Nezumi's eyes.

“You have lipstick around your mouth,” he said.

Nezumi slapped his hand over his mouth, heart leaping to his throat. He'd completely forgotten.

Shion stood suddenly. “I...” His voice broke off, and he made to escape the room.

Nezumi was too quick for him. He grabbed Shion's wrist and pulled him back. “No, wait, hear me out. It isn't how you think it is.”

“Isn't it?” Shion asked coldly.

“No! It wasn't for revenge or anything like that. I just wanted to forget for a bit. It didn't work.”

“What a shame,” came the biting retort.

Nezumi stared at the floor. “If it changes anything, it didn't go any further than kissing.”

Shion's face contorted, but he sat back down. “I guess we're even, then,” he grumbled.

“I didn't do it to get back at you.”

Shion sighed, deflating completely. “I know,” he said, defeated.

Nezumi reached out to stroke his hair, then thought better of it and let his hand fall. “I'm sorry,” he muttered. He scrubbed the lipstick off with the back of his hand.

“There's no need to apologise. You can kiss whoever you like.” Shion's voice only sounded slightly forced. He was learning.

Nezumi tried to say it, he really did, but all that came out was, “Likewise for you.”

Shion had always been the braver of the two. “I don't want to kiss just anyone, though,” he said.

Nezumi's heart caught in his throat. His voice came out breathy, quiet. “No?”

Shion bit his lip. “It didn't feel right. With him. He wasn't right.” Shion inhaled a shaky breath. “But...he looked a bit like you...”

Nezumi's heart stopped. Shion looked terrified, gripping the sofa with white-knuckled hands, face drained of all colour, but Nezumi could see the determination in his eyes. He himself could only feel slightly humiliated that Shion had been stronger in the end, but the rush of hope that he felt at the boy's words drowned those feelings almost immediately.

“He looked like you...” Shion started again, “...so I thought I wanted it because –” Here he broke off, and the fear overpowered his determination. Nezumi had to prompt him.

“Because?” he asked gently.

Shion's face crumpled. “Because he was the closest I could get!” he wailed, unsuccessfully trying to hold back tears.

Nezumi couldn't hold back any longer. With his heart still thumping in his head as if to burst his eardrums, he caught Shion's chin in his fingers, tilted the boy's head to face him and captured his lips with his own.

Shion tasted like salt and blood, tears and pain. Nezumi kissed him, almost desperately, until the taste of violence and split lips faded to the soft, mellow flavour of Shion himself. Nezumi felt himself ache with relief and want when Shion sank into him and began to kiss him back, so much so that he almost felt as though, if he didn't hold himself together, he would fall to pieces right then and there.

He'd denied it all for so long. He'd believed it was for the best, that it would make things easier when they eventually had to part, but now Nezumi realised that they had passed that point long, long ago, that this person, this puzzle piece that fit him so perfectly, would ache like a missing limb when absent, regardless of any token separation Nezumi forced between them. Staying apart would only hurt them further, lead to regrets about what might have been. There was no denying it any longer: Shion was, and had always been, the only person to have a place in Nezumi's heart that was so impossible to ignore, and now he was finally giving in to him, he felt more right than he ever had in his entire life.

He coaxed Shion's mouth open with the tip of his tongue and they melted into each other completely. Neuzmi sank backwards, pulling Shion with him, onto him, until he felt the boy's heat against every part of his body. Then, a warm, salty drop of water fell onto his cheek and Nezumi pulled away immediately.

“Shion? Why are you crying?”

All sorts of explanations flew to mind: Shion felt that this was wrong, that it was no different than with the stranger, that he wanted to feel something and didn't, that he didn't actually want this at all but was just scared that Nezumi would –

“Nezumi,” Shion whispered, voice cracked and raw, “I'm so happy.”

Nezumi blinked, then smiled in relieved adoration. Of course.  
  
  


“You're really set on leaving?”

“I have to.”

Nezumi turned away from the filthy, bloodstained person that was his everything. He'd vowed to leave it at this, but then he had also vowed not to look back, and if one vow was broken, then the other, too, was meaningless.

He never could bear to see Shion cry.

His tears tasted salty on Nezumi's lips, mixing with the blood from his split lip. When he pulled away, Shion took a deep breath.

“Was that a goodbye kiss?”

“A vow. Reunion will come, Shion.”

_Reunion will come._


End file.
